Katie Rose (37 page)

“Yes, if that’s what you wish.” She started past Emily, then paused in the doorway. Her face was contrite. “Miss Potter, I’m very sorry about this misunderstanding. I thought we worked well together. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I just didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“I’m sorry, too, but my mind is made up. Please leave.”

Lynette walked out of the room, and Emily softly closed the door behind her. All was quiet for a short time and Emily assumed she was packing her things, then her footsteps sounded in the hallway. Finally Emily heard the porch door swing shut, and she knew the woman was gone.

Rosie swam into view, but this time, her reflection was fainter than ever. “Rosie?” Emily cried in dismay. “Why are you so blurry?” Rosie tried to smile, but her features seemed to blend together. Her black plume was like a soft brush stroke, and her dress a wash of scarlet. She looked like a beautiful but runny watercolor painting.

“Hello, sweetie. I wanted so badly to warn you. That woman’s been looking through everything while you were gone. I wanted to scare her, but it would have used up the last of my energy. I’m fading more and more. I almost couldn’t come back this time, but I forced myself. I wanted to see you again.”

“I’m so glad you did.” Emily couldn’t stop the tears that choked her. “Oh, Rosie, I wish you weren’t going! Especially now! Thomas—he asked me to marry him! I wanted to share it all with you, every last minute.…”

“I’ll be there, sweetie,” Rosie said, though Emily could tell she was crying, too. “Do you think I’d miss your wedding? Like I told you before, I’ll always be with you, even if you don’t see me. It’s getting so hard to focus now. I feel something pulling me toward this light. I don’t want to go there, because I think if I do, I won’t ever return.…”

“Rosie!” Emily cried, pressing her hands against the mirror. “Please don’t go! I don’t want you to leave me!”

Rosie’s hand lifted to the glass. Emily, still sobbing, touched her fingertips to the ones in the reflection. For one brief second, Emily felt heat, as if the ghost’s life force joined hers. A glimpse of gold light, green grass, and roses filled her mind, and her body tingled. The feeling was wonderful, warm and comforting, and Emily knew she would never fear dying again.

“Oh, Rosie! What will I do without you?”

“I’m getting real tired, sweetie. I love you, remember that. I’m so glad for you and Thomas. You deserve it, honey. Love him, Emily. And let him love you back. Only in love is there no time and no death.”

“Rosie!” Emily cried.

But the spirit was gone.

The house was intensely quiet when Emily awoke the next morning. She braced herself, waiting for the anguish she expected to engulf her at the loss of her friend, but thankfully, a peaceful, happy sensation came over her, and a sense of things being as they should. Rosie must be happy wherever she was, Emily concluded. As she wished her well, she felt a flush of comforting warmth, as if the phantom had kept her promise to always be with her.

Rising from bed, she recalled what had happened between herself and Thomas yesterday, and utter joy washed all over her once more. His words had meant so much to her, especially his reassurance that the gold no longer mattered. He was right. What they had was already worth a fortune.

The top drawer of her dresser remained open, and when Emily attempted to push it shut, she saw the papers stuffed inside. Lynette. The woman must have been rifling through her personal effects. Taking the documents from the drawer, she held them up to the morning sunlight, puzzled. They were the original copy of her father’s will, and the duplicate that Ewert had brought.

That’s odd, Emily mused, laying them side by side. The thought that the will her father had hidden was somehow a factor in the case had never left her. Now Lynette’s interest in the papers aroused her sleuthish instincts. Whipping out her glass, she examined the two documents closely.

The wording was precisely the same, as Emily had
already surmised. There was a notation by Ewert Smith that a letter had been sent to Emily, advising her of her father’s death. Following that was another stating that Emily had refused to sell the house. Other than those notations, the two documents seemed identical.

It has to be here
, Emily thought.
But what is it?
Holding the duplicate wills toward the lamp, she turned the gaslight up as high as it would go, eliminating every possible shadow. Lowering the glass to the papers once more, her heart skipped a beat. There was something odd.…

It was a pinprick. Emily squinted as she turned the paper to fully examine the tiny dot. Directly beneath a letter
T
, it showed up clearly on the original will, but not on the attorney’s copy.

A thrill raced up Emily’s spine, and she slowly read the next sentence. There was another dot. Then another. Two sentences down, a fourth.

She snatched up a paper and a pencil, copying the letters above each dot in order. Good Lord, what a fool I’ve been! she berated herself. Her father had left her a clue all right, but she’d been too thickheaded to find it.

Forcing herself to remain calm, she focused on what she had written on the page: T-H-E-G-O-L-D-I-S-I-N-T-H-E-M-I-R-R-O-R-G-U-A-R-D-A-G-A-I-N-S-T-L-Y-N-E-T-T-E.

Emily tested the verbiage out loud: “ ‘The gold is in the mirror. Guard against Lynette.’ ”

Emily reached out to touch Rosie’s mirror.
Where? Her hand fell on the gilt that encased the glass, and her pulse began to pound. What if it wasn’t gilt? What if …

A reflection swam before her in the glass. This time, it wasn’t Rosie who stared back at her. This time, it was—

“Lynette!”

“Back away from that mirror. That’s right. Pretty clever of your father, to hide the gold that way. It’s been right here all this time, molded around the mirror beneath the gilt paint, and none of us thought to look twice at it. You saved me quite a bit of time and effort. Too bad you won’t be around to enjoy it.”

Emily’s gaze fell helplessly on the pearl-handled pistol in the woman’s grip.

Thomas walked toward the former bordello, absently rubbing his aching arm. Although the doctor had advised more bed rest, he had to see Emily. The thought of her brought a smile to his lips, one that died instantly when he approached the house. Shangri-La was eerily dark, except for one light upstairs. Stranger still, the door was not only unlocked, but ajar. While he knew Emily was oddly absent-minded when it came to such details, he didn’t think her so foolish as to leave the door wide open. On alert now, a sixth sense made him remove his boots before padding cautiously up the stairs.

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Thomas tried to fight the sense of doom that swept over him, but it was useless. Feeling for his gun, Thomas recalled that the sheriff had taken possession
of it, and invited him to pick it up at his convenience. With Emmet dead and Jake behind bars, Thomas wouldn’t have thought he’d need it so quickly, but at this moment, he heartily wished for the reassurance of the heavy Colt at his side.

Emily’s bedroom door stood open. As Thomas drew nearer, he saw her standing beside the mirror, her face ashen, yet her voice—it was Emily, after all—coldly logical. Her gaze was not directed at him. Someone else occupied the bedroom, someone whose gun was reflected in the glass, as well.

“Lynette,” Emily said simply. “Of course.”

“I had you fooled. I had everyone fooled.”

Thomas froze. Lynette’s ladylike voice sounded hard. A chill passed through him as he thought of China Blue, weakly etching the letter
L
in the dirt. It was this woman she had been trying to warn them against, and not Lizzie Wakefield after all. Good God, what a fool he’d been!

Lynette gave a harsh laugh. “You thought you were so smart and so clever, a real detective! Chasing after Emmet and Jake, when all along
I
was pulling the strings.”

“You were my father’s partner,” Emily said softly.

“You could say that.” Lynette laughed again. “He was transporting the payroll, along with another employee, when your pa stole it out from under the other fella, then let him take the blame. Funny thing was, I’d planned to steal the gold from your pa and kill him myself. But he must have sensed something amiss, for he knocked me out and disappeared, only to turn up at this whorehouse. He was right about
one thing, though. It’s the last place I would have looked, if it hadn’t been for Emmet.”

“The outlaw told you where he was?” Emily asked, putting the pieces together.

Good Girl
, Thomas thought,
keep her talking
. Without his gun, his only chance to save Emily was to get close enough to tackle Lynette, and he needed the element of surprise on his side. Otherwise they, too, would become victims of Shangri-La. He inched his way toward the two women. With every second, he got closer.…

Lynette was talking again. “Of course. Emmet was my pawn, too, just like your pa. But before I kill you, I want to know something. What made you suspect me? And why did you let me live in your house if you did?”

Emily waved her hand as if it were simplicity itself. “I knew a woman had broken into Shangri-La that night. I never saw a man yet who would avoid a flower bed when breaking in to a house. And then the coroner’s report, feeble as it was, indicated that the bullet wounds in Rosie and my father were from a pistol. Men out here in the West aren’t much for small guns, so I deduced a woman.”

“Clever.”

“Elementary. So you see, you were always on my list of suspects. In fact, there is some information due to arrive any moment that I am now certain will totally incriminate you. Unfortunately for you, you told me a piece of your history that was true. Mrs. Bates did remember you, but said you had worked in Philadelphia under another name. I am positive the
local police departments will produce records of Lynette Armstrong. Until I had such proof, however, it made perfect sense to keep you under scrutiny.”

“Well, then. More’s the pity. The world will lose a real talent when I get rid of you. Too bad you’re going to meet such a sudden end at such a youthful age. But it’s sort of fittin’, don’t you think? You and your pa dying in the same house, by the same gun? I couldn’t think of a more poetic justice myself.”

She pointed the gun at Emily. Thomas could see its deadly reflection in the glass. He was within ten feet of her—not close enough, but there was no more time. Lunging into the room, he tried to reach Lynette before she could fire, but it was too late. Her cruel smile was illuminated in the silver glass as she pulled the trigger.

“No!” Thomas cried.

As if in slow motion, he saw Lynette’s arm jerk back with the force of the gunshot, and Emily’s eyes widen in horror. Just at that moment, to his disbelief, a woman’s arm thrust through the mirror and yanked Emily out of the way. Thomas gaped in surprise even as he grabbed Lynette. The gun flew out of her hand, smashing into the mirror, breaking it into a dozen glittering shards.

“Did you see her, Thomas? Did you?” Emily cried, staring at the broken glass in shock.

Wrestling Lynette to the floor, Thomas bound her with one of Emily’s scarves. When he stood up he took Emily into his arms and they both turned to the shattered looking glass. To Thomas’s astonishment, their fractured reflection vanished, replaced by the
vision of a dozen Rosies, laughing merrily and fanning themselves with black plumes. Thomas’s mouth went dry. Every brain cell he possessed told him this couldn’t be true, and yet he knew it was. He was seeing a ghost. A bunch of ghosts!

“Rosie!” Emily cried, delighted. “It is you! You saved me! But how—”

The spirit laughed naughtily, then gestured to the woman on the floor. “I acted a bit sicker than I was, sweetie. I was saving up my energy. I thought you might need my help. I knew the night that spider came into this house that something was wrong. It was a feeling. Know what I mean?”

Emily nodded, wiping away tears. “Yes, I know.”

“I couldn’t let her kill you, too, honey. I didn’t know if I could do it, but I was watching her in the mirror the whole time. I thought maybe, if I just concentrated enough, I could pull you away. I did good, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Emily said. “Real good.”

“Then you’re really a …” Thomas’s voice trailed off in wonder, and Rosie giggled uproariously.

“Yes, I’m a real ‘live’ ghost. Miss Emily’s gotten rather used to me, but I guess it’s sort of a shock to you.”

“Rosie, I can’t …” Thomas shook his head in wonder. “I can’t thank you enough. You don’t know what this woman means to me.”

“Oh, I think I have an idea.” Rosie winked flirtatiously. “Now, you be good to her, preacher man. She deserves someone nice. And honey, don’t let your father’s wrongs keep you from being happy. You’ll
never know his side of the story, so don’t judge him too harshly. I just know he loved you, and that’s all that counts.”

“I know,” Emily said tearfully. “Oh, Rosie, I’m so glad to see you again! Will you be able to stay?”

The ghost shook her head sadly. “No, it’s time for me to go. It’s over; I’m sure of it now. Remember when I told you about the light? I can feel it shimmering all around me. Good-bye, honey. Remember what I told you.”